Not So Courtly Love
by addledwalrus
Summary: Antonio meets his so-called 'true love' and Francis is far from happy for his neighbour.


**A/N: This was partially inspired by me reading about the plot of Don Quixote and may not be an accurate depiction of canon characters.  
**

* * *

It was the year 1660 and France was visiting Spain a year after the signing of the Treaty of the Pyrenees. He had travelled down south for some time until he reached Catalonia, where he coincidentally encountered his neighbour sooner than he'd expected.

Spain was strolling leisurely along the road and in another one of his usual pleasant moods, which France assumed was his southern neighbour being his normal self, until said Iberian nation made a startling confession.

"Antonio, might I ask where you are heading? If my sense of navigation is correct, you should reach my house if you keep going that way."

"Oh, I don't really know these days. Francis, there's something that I've been aching to tell you all afternoon..." He began, taking a deep breath and stopping by the edge of the road. France did the same and found himself gazing at the Spaniard's lean chest, watching the muscle beneath the latter's tunic shift as he inhaled and exhaled.

_"My god, he really has become quite fit lately. He's almost catching up to me in fact..."_

Spain did not seem to realize however, where France was staring and continued with the news he was so eager to share.

"Oh Francis, you might not believe it but I think I've fallen in love..." He sighed dreamily, his whole body relaxing as he briefly became lost in thoughts of his object of affection.

Contrary to what Spain thought however, France hardly found this surprising. He was in fact rather amused and dare he say it, happy that Spain had apparently found someone he cared deeply for.

As the senior of the two as well as out of curiosity, France also felt that it was his duty to find out how genuine Spain's 'love' was and actually meet the lucky person in question.

"So Antonio, who is this person you say you're in love with?" He asked in jest.

Spain smiled blissfully. "A woman."

"A woman?"

"I met her yesterday and she doesn't live too far from here. I'll take you to where she lives now, if you would like."

"That would be a great pleasure."

France smirked mischievously, letting a little of his excitement show through. He was definitely looking forward to meeting this woman and seeing the effect she had on Spain.

_"I wager that she must be rather beautiful, for someone like him to have fallen in love with her..." _He thought as he followed Spain in high spirits.

They travelled a further few miles south, until they came upon a rather squalid collection of houses. Spain came to a stop and turned to France.

"This here, is the village where she lives. It doesn't look too good, but the people are pretty friendly..."

France almost spat in disbelief.

"This pile of shit? I'd hardly even call this village, but a cesspool!" He cried, as the smell of animal droppings wafted through the air and made him wrinkle his noise in disgust.

The fact that Spain didn't even seem bothered by the stench only worried him more and he tried to protest, only for his words to fall on deaf ears.

"I know you'll love her, Francis. She's a pretty good cook too, the best one in her village in fact. Her signature dish..."

"Shut up, just take me to her and get it over and done with!"

"My pleasure, then."

* * *

Spain showed France to a house on the right, walking up to the door and pushing it open with ease. Smoke flooded out and stung France's eyes, making them water. He tried to make his way inside safely with his blurred vision and barely succeeded, soon feeling a heavy hand land on his shoulder that pushed him down into a chair.

"Great, you're back. And you've brought a friend this time too." A deep voice uttered wearily. France couldn't tell if it belonged to a man or a woman.

He looked up to see a swarthy and overweight figure towering over him, it's long arms hanging loosely by the sides of it's thick waist, which gave way to a pair of short, stumpy legs. Dark blemishes covered their face and he even made out a double chin and a dense bunch of hair above their upper lip. It was when he laid eyes on the person's torso however, that he knew they were undoubtedly female.

"You won't believe how many times I told him to go away yesterday..." She grumbled, glancing quickly at Spain, whom gazed back at her in adoration.

"Oh please don't lie, my sweetheart! You know you love me!" Spain protested feverishly.

The woman moaned in exasperation, clearly reaching the limits of her patience. She directed her attention back to the stove and continued to talk.

"Your friend came by this place while I was hanging out the clothes. Thought he was just a mere traveller passing through, which was odd in itself."

"Go on." France encouraged.

"Didn't think he'd even bother to look at a woman like me, but then he does...and..."

She paused and bent down to push a log further into the fire, before going back to stirring whatever was in her pot."

"Laughed and told him he was far too good for me, then he started acting strangely..."

"And please describe this strange behaviour of his?"

As if on cue, Spain began to speak to rather passionately to the woman about how beautiful he thought she was, how he would gladly die for her, along with other things that didn't usually make France feel ill.

By the time Spain had finished his speech, France felt as if nothing could surprise him anymore. He studied the other nation in great concern and found himself questioning their sanity.

"Antonio, are you feeling well? Have you eaten something bad by any chance?"

"No, Francis. I've eaten very well! I've never felt this good in years, actually!"

France swore that a tiny part of him was now dying. Nevertheless, he still wasn't going to give up on bringing Spain back to his senses just yet, so he stood up from his chair and made eye contact with him.

"This must be some sort of joke! If not, then I must say that there are no words to describe how terrible a taste you have! I have seen pigs more attractive than this woman if I can even call this creature one, and I thought you at least had some bit of sense!"

France gave time to let his words sink in, hoping that Spain would finally realize how idiotic he was in pursuing someone so undesirable. Unfortunately, the results were far from what he had wished for.

"Well, they must have been really beautiful pigs then..." Spain said innocently, leaning against the wall and sighing once again.

It was then that France came face to face with the other repercussion of what he'd said. The woman approached and he saw how offended she looked despite all the flaws on her face. Seeing her expression, he immediately regretted his earlier outburst.

"If you find me so repulsive, then why don't you just leave?! Nobody's forcing you to look at me!" She cried in anguish, pointing a trembling finger at him.

"I'm so sorry for what I might have said, woman. For a moment, I forgot you were still in the room. I hope you will forgive me..." France tried to apologize, bowing his head slightly.

"Forgot I was in the room?! This is my house and you can't act like it's yours!" She screamed as her anger only grew in intensity.

France found that there was nothing more he could say to ease her temper and decided he had no choice but to leave the place. He gave one last look of pity at Spain before walking out the door for good.

* * *

A fortnight later, France once again bumped into Spain in an unlikely place and just as always, the latter was in high spirits.

"So what happened between you and that woman? Did it work out?"

Spain shook his head in dismay. "Alas, it did not. I believe we just weren't meant to be..."

"I'm glad you've finally returned to your senses, then..." France sighed, smiling at his friend in relief at wondering if was in fact, partially due to his own intervention.

"I told her that things would never work out between us, but of course she begged me to stay..."


End file.
